


Ready to lead, ready to follow, never quit

by StillGlorious



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, bud/s, navy seal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillGlorious/pseuds/StillGlorious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little bit about Steve McGarrett during his Training. It was supposed to be part of a chaptered story but that fell through. I still thought it's worth posting. It's merely a glimpse of how I like to picture him during those moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to lead, ready to follow, never quit

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the help of: http://usmilitary.about.com/od/navytrng/a/sealhellweek.htm

In the Beginning....

4857 miles was not nearly enough distance if you asked Steve. 

His father had sent him to the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland where thanks to surprisingly good grades he was even welcomed. Apprehensive at first, Steve quickly realized that he actually _wanted_ to go away. Preferably far far away. This school handed him instantly, something that his former life had lacked considerably. Structure.

Even though the workout at 5.30 am was optional, he always exercised, sometimes up to the point where the world would start spinning around him. Physical exercise blocked every negative emotion. For three years, Steve got up at dawn's early light and pushed his body hard. Every aching muscle pushed darker thoughts away and granted his mind a clarity he wasn't otherwise able to achieve.

It was easy to gain friends, even easier to gain respect. Steve McGarrett, a boy who used to be satisfied by sunshine and a perfect wave sometime in the afternoon, now had a goal. The only thing that annoyed him was the vacation time in between. He didn't want to go back home. The thought alone made his stomach turn. Home was broken indefinitely. He did call his father once a week for meaningless small talk but even those calls felt strained. Steve had closed the door on home and didn't intend on opening it up ever again. Family, as far as he was concerned, died with her.

The Navy was his salvation. The structure was deliverance to his tormented soul. The schedule left no room for doubts or time to hide in sorrow. Physically challenging, high academic expectations and a bunch of other guys with the same goals. Steve had a clear intention. He wanted to become a SEAL, thus, requiring him to sacrifice most of his previous life. Being a Navy SEAL wasn't a random life choice but a philosophy. It wasn't a nine to five job but a twenty-four-hour commitment.

The training curriculum to fulfill that goal began at Naval Special Warfare Preparatory School in Great Lakes, Illinois. In a two month training period, where they checked the candidate’s physical readiness, Steve McGarrett stunned his instructors by being more than prepared for the infamous Basis Underwater Demolition SEAL training.

He swam the required 1000 yards in less than 15 minutes, easily excelled in the push-ups (70 were required in a two-minute time limit), did 10 pull-ups, 60 sit-ups (way under the required time limit of two-minutes) and ran the four mile run in 25 minutes. Naturally, he passed the test at the end of the two months with flying colors. He was not afraid of the upcoming training but looked forward to it. Anything that would take his mind from the past was welcome.

Finally, arriving at the Navy special warfare center in Coronado, California, he thought nothing could shake his attitude. In the first phase, Steve never considered to DOR (Drop on request) even though he witnessed guys leaving who seemed stronger than him. It wasn't about strength alone but a die-hard will to pull through. In the beginning his interaction with the other candidates of class 203 was limited. He was put in charge of Boat Crew One after three weeks, as the instructors saw his ability to lead. Yet, even then, though always working well with his teammates, motivating where motivation was required, there was a barrier that he kept high. Nothing private, everything professional. As if there was nothing else. 

Some trainees went home at the weekends to see their family. Steve didn't even want to go home at Christmas. He had lost the connection to his sister almost entirely and still couldn't easily talk to his father. There was too much unresolved anger, too much blame. Deep down he knew it wasn't right but he couldn't help but feeling as if he was the only one damaged. The Universe took his mother away from him. And despite the knowledge that it must have hit both Mary and his father as hard as it touched him, he wanted to be alone in his grief.

Things did, though change during Hell Week. Not so much in regards to his family but getting through it helped him to open up. It proved to him that he was on the right path and made him feel much more content. It made him proud of the achievement but he also learned the importance of teamwork. He had found his new family. 

Hell week

Giving up was a thought ragingly throbbing within his mind. A whispering inner voice kept telling him, repeatedly, that _this_ was really not what he wants. It was a lie, though. A lie constructed from the extreme conditions his body and mind were confronted with. Because, the truth was, Steve McGarrett always _wanted_ this. He made his choice a long time ago and he knew what that meant, before signing up for the Navy. He certainly did not want to become part of the 90% drop out rate. No, he would endure. Never quit. A SEAL motto he had soaked up by signing a contract with his country.

It was the second day of Hell Week, a title, which he admittedly hadn't taken seriously enough before. Steve was lying on the beach, head first in the water, his arms linked with his comrades. There were twenty one of them and he was pressed in to the middle. To his left was his roommate, Michael and to his right was Jack Murdoch, a tall, dark skinned hunk of man, who was currently trembling just as much as the rest of the group. Every wave slapping in his face made his body ache a little more. Everyone kept gasping for air, involuntarily swallowing gallons of icy ocean water. However, the cold was the worst. It attacked his muscles, his heartbeat and his ability to think clearly. His entire body was shaking uncontrollably, his skin felt raw and his eyes burned from the saltwater. An hour felt like an eternity and the instructors had no mercy. Surf torture surely would never make the list of favorite recreational activities. The water started to annoy him. A part of him started to detest it, which considering his career choice, seemed like a rather stupid emotional feeling.

Two instructors kept walking up and down in the water behind them and very nicely telling them how shockingly sapless they were. 

“You think this is _cold_? This ain't cold. If you can't endure this, you don't have the guts to be a SEAL. Go back home to your mommy. All you have to do is ring the bell.”

It didn't make him angry but surprisingly motivated him to push through. There was his pride, which wouldn't let him quit. However, the harsh conditions were taking its toll on his mind, regardless of his stamina. 

He cannot even remember the last time he slept and he has been wet and covered in mud for what feels like an eternity. In the last two days he had climbed up a rope, fired his gun, was yelled up by five different instructors, crawled through a tube in to dark water and swallowed so much dirt that his mouth tastes dead and stale by now. The ocean has no mercy. That’s something an instructor once roared in his face and by now, Steve knows that it’s true.

He felt the guy next to him struggling as much as he does. They locked eyes briefly. Just to say, you are not alone, hold on, before yet another wave crashes over their heads. Steve was grateful and returns the motion. Not alone. Not ever alone. A team, even in training. This was what he has been searching for ever since he left Hawaii. A family.

Steve reached out to touch his comrade shoulder. Insurance. His voice croaking, “Halftime.”

The both grinned grimly, bodies shuddering. Even physical training and perfect fitness was no match for the might of the ocean. The waves kept crashing against them while they struggle to keep their balance. They look out for each other. Each one of them had someone he watches closely, helps if needed. Even so, some drop out, ring the bell as they say,even some, that Steve would have bet a million dollars would make it. During the explosives, gun shots, running through sand, some minds just stopped handling. Once your mind takes over, you are lost, someone once told Steve and he knew by then what it meant.

_If you don't mind, it doesn't matter_ was not without reason, one of the most used chants during hell week.

When they were finally ordered out of the water, every muscle in his body screamed for rest but he was ordered back with his Boat Crew. They had to carrying their boats, inflatable rubber zodiacs, over their heads for a timed exercise run. Steve had already impressed with his exceptional skills to lead and this time it was no difference. His crew won the race and were allowed a ten minute sit down. It pays to be a winner. 

At first, Steve, had welcomed the change. His ears still rang and hurt from the unforgivable loudness of the soundtrack of the crashing waves and the loud yelling by the instructors. Although, a ten minute break wasn't enough it was a welcome moment of silence. However, Steve quickly became agitated again. Being still, even for a few minutes and even though, he had wanted this so badly only moments before, was not something he was able to handle easily. The quietness, with no way to release that roaring inner pain turned out to be considerably tougher than running away from possible bullets. Not to mention that the mind in silence tends to work on overdrive.

Steve didn't welcome all those thoughts settling. Thoughts about his life before. In the darkness of the night he cannot help remembering his mother. He bet a lot of the trainees were remembering their mothers as well but for him it wasn't a happy soothing memory, it only turned the water even colder than before.

His body was still freezing, mud in his crevices even after so long in the ocean, salt water chaffing everywhere, even his balls were getting sore. As merciless as the ocean, as annoyingly invasive was the sand. No matter the clothes, no matter how well you tried to protect sensitive parts, it still crawls up to you, making your skin sting heavily. 

Steve had always been an active type of guy. He used to surf, he enjoyed hiking and he had always looked forward to being _here_ , but for the first time he found himself in a position that made him want to give everything up just for the sake of some warm water and a cozy bed. 

When they ordered them back from their break, they sent them on a five mile run along the beach. Under different circumstances, Steve would usually enjoy a good run but his legs were barely following the orders of his brain anymore. He almost stumbled but someone reached out for him and kept him in balance. 

He croaked out a thank you and gathered up every little bit of strength and ran. His throat was burning and he felt sick but he did not slow down. The pain spread through his chest but he let out a roar to keep himself going. He caught up with those in front and passed them, grinning when he heard them protesting. However, in all fairness and despite the importance of teamwork, Steve still wanted to come in first.

After the run they were ordered back in to the water. It was the 5th time that night and two fellow trainees refused at the prospect of another round of surf torture. DOR. They walked away. One of them was Jack and it really shocked Steve, to see that tough guy giving up. He was, however, far too concentrated on his own situation to waste too much thought on it. 

Steve tried recalling the times where being in the water used to be just bliss. Tried remembering riding the waves on the shore of the paradise he once called home. Yet, it wasn't helping. His muscles were cramping under the cold and he heard that voice again, telling him to call it a day and find a warm place to sleep.

“Push through, man,” he told himself through the cold night in a loud firm voice. And it helped. It helped a lot actually and Steve shook off that desire to surrender and straightened his hurting body.

“Never give up,” he hissed through his teeth and several trainees roar out a 'hooyah' because they want to beat this week of hell. They want to become the country’s leading elite force. They want to become SEALS and neither darkness, mud or water will stop them from succeeding.

Ready to lead, ready to follow, never quit.


End file.
